Titanic: Gabpay Style
by PositiveOutcomesOnly
Summary: So I decided to write Titanic Gabpay style. Don't like it, don't read it.
1. Chapter 1

In the darkness of the blue North Atlantic Ocean, two faint lights could be seen. They were growing brighter and brighter. The lights belonged to two submersibles that were free falling into the deep ocean.

One of them, Mir 1, is ahead of the other as they continued to free fall into the dark ocean.

Inside one of the submersibles, there were three men: Anatoly Mikailavich, the pilot, who was singing in Russian softly, next to him was Brock Lovett and on the other side, Lewis Bodine.

Brock was a fast talked, adventurer and excited about new discoveries. Right now, he was asleep, just like Lewis.

Mir 1 drops to the seafloor, hitting the floor with a loud bonk. The noise wakes Brock and Lewis up.

"We are here." Anatoly spoke in his heavy Russian accent.

5 minutes later, the two subs were skimming over the seafloor to the sound of sides can sonar and thrum of big thrusters.

Lewis was watching the side scan sonar display, where the outline of a huge pointed object was visible. Anatoly lied prone, driving the sub, his face pressed to the center spot.

"Come left a little. She's right in front of us, eighteen meters. Fifteen." Lewis said. "Thirteen… you should see it."

"Do you see it? I don't see it…" Anatoly said. "There!"

Out of the darkness, the bow of the ship appears. The knife-edged prow was pointing straight to the subs, seeming to plow the bottom sediment like ocean waves. It towered above the seafloor, standing just as it landed 84 years ago: the Titanic.

Mir 1 went up and over the bow railing, which was intact, except for an overgrowth or "reticles", draping it like mutated Spanish moss.

Brock's face was fill wed the eyepiece monitor of a video camcorder.

"It stills gets me everytime." He said. Anatoly turned.

"Is just your guilt because of stealing from the dead." He said.

Brock operates the camera himself, making it point at his own face.

"Thanks, Tolya, work with me here." He said.

Brock resumed his serious gaze out the front port, with the camera aimed at himself at arm's length.

"It still gets me everytime… to see the sad ruin of the great ship sitting here, where she landed at 2:30 in the morning, April 15th, 1912, after her long fall from the world above." Brock said, still admiring.

Anatoly rolled his eyes and mumbled something in Russian, while Lewis laughed, watching the sonar.

"You are so full of shit, boss." He said.

Mir 2 drove aft down the starboard side, past the huge anchor, while Mir 1 passed over the seemingly endless forecastle deck, with its master anchor chains still laid out in two neat rows, its bronze windlass caps gleaming. The two white subs were like two tiny bugs next to the enormous wreck.

"Dive nine. Here we are again on the deck of Titanic, two and a half miles down. The pressure is three tons per square inch, enough to crush us like a freight train going over an ant if our hull fails. These windows are nine inches thick and if they go, it's _sayonara_ in two microseconds." Brock said.

Mir 2 landed on the boat deck, next to the ruins of the Officer's Quarters. Mir 1 landed on the roof of the deck nearby.

"Right. Let's go to work." Brock said.

Lewis slipped on a pair of 3D electronic goggles and grabbed the joystick controls of the ROV. Outside the sub, the ROV, a small orange and black robot called Snoop Dog lifted from its cradle and filed forward.

"Walkin' the dog." Lewis said.

Snoop Dog drove itself away from the sub, paying out its umbilical behind. Its twin stereo-video cameras swivel like insect eyes. The ROV descended through an open shaft that was once a beautiful First Class Grand Staircase.

Snoop Dog went down several decks, then moved laterally into the First Class Reception Room.

Minutes later, Snoop entered a corridor which was much better preserved than the rest of the ship the crew had seen until now. The ROV turned and went through a black doorway, entering staterooms on Titanic.

"I'm in the sitting room. Heading for bedroom B-54." Lewis said.

"Stay off the floor. Don't stir up like you did yesterday." Brock said.

"I'm tryin' boss." Lewis said. Snoop kept crossing the sitting room, moving out of the rust and kept going. "I'm crossing the bedroom."

Lewis could see the remains of a pillared canopy bed, broken chairs and a dresser. Through the collapsed wall of the bedroom, the porcelain commode and bathtub, took almost new, gleaming in the dark.

"Okay, I want to see what's under the wardrobe door." Brock said.

The ROV deployed its manipulator arms and started moving debris aside.

"Easy Lewis, take it slow." Brock said.

Lewis gripped on a wardrobe door, lying at an angle in the corner, and pulled it with Snoop's gripper. It moved reluctantly in a cloud of silt. Under it there was a dark object. The silt cleared and Snoop's cameras showed them what was under the door.

"Ooohh daddy-oh, are you seein' what I'm seein'?" Lewis asked, excitedly.

Brock was watching the monitors, looking closely at the Holy Grail.

"Oh baby baby baby." Brock said, grabbing the mike. "It's payday, boys."

oO0Oo

The safe that was taken from under the wardrobe door was lowered into the deck of the Russian research vessel, Akademik Mistilav Kyeldish.

A crowd gathered, including most of the crew of the Kyeldish, the sub crews and a hand-wringing money guy named Bobby Buell, who represented limited partners, a documentary video crew, hired by Brock to cover his moment of glory.

Lewis was following Brock as he bounded over to the safe, like a kid in a Christmas morning.

"Who's the best? Say it." He said. Brock gave him a small smile, trying to hide his excitement.

"You are, Lewis." He said, making Lewis laugh in happiness. Brock then turned to the video crew. "You rolling?"

"Rolling." The cameraman answered.

Brock nodded and they set about drilling the safe's hinges as Brock's amps the suspense, working the lens to fill time.

"Well, here it is, moment of truth. Here's where we find out if the time, the sweat, the money spent to charter this ship and these subs, to come out here to the middle of the North Atlantic were worth it." Brock said. "If what we think is in that safe… it will be."

Brock grinned in anticipation of his greatest find yet. The door is pried loose and it clangs onto the deck. Brock moved closer, peering into the safe's wet interior. A long moment later, his face could say it all.

"Shit." He said.

"You know, boss, this happened to Geraldo and his career never recovered." Lewis said.

Brock stood up and slowly looked at the camera in the man's hand.

"Get that outta my face." He said.

oO0Oo

Technicians were carefully removing papers from the safe and placing them a tray of water to separate safely. Nearby, other artifacts from stateroom were being washed and preserved.

Bobby was on the satellite phone with the investors while Brock was yelling at the video crew.

"You send out what I tell you when I tell you. I'm signing your paychecks, not 60 minutes. Now set me up for the uplink!" he said.

Bobby covered the phone and turned to Brock.

"The partners want to know how it's going."

"How it's going? It's going like a first date in prison, whattaya think!" Brock said, frustrated.

Bobby was taken aback and watched Brock with almost wife eyes as Brock took the phone from him and went instantly smooth.

"Hi, Dave? Barry? Look, it wasn't in the safe… no, look, don't worry about it, there's still plenty of places it could be… in the floor debris in the suite, in the mother's room, in the purser's safe on C deck…" Brock said as he saw something. "Hang on a second." He said.

A tech coaxes some letters in the water tray to one side with a tong, revealing a pencil drawing of a woman.

Brock looked closely at the drawing, which was in excellent shape, though its edges had partially disintegrated. The woman in the drawing was beautiful, and beautifully portrayed. She was in her late teens or early 20s, she was nude, though posed with a kind of casual modesty. She was on an Empire divan, on a pool of light that seemed to radiate outward from her eyes. In the bottom right corner of the paper is the date, April 14th 1912, and the initials GM.

The girl is not entirely nude, on her neck, there was a diamond necklace with the large stone hanging in the center.

Brock grabbed a reference photo from the clutter on the lab table. It is a period black and white photo of a diamond necklace, looking very similar to the one the girl is wearing in the drawing. Brock held it next to the drawing, knowing it was clearly the same piece, a complex setting with a massive central stone, almost in the shape of a heart.

"I'll be God damned." He said, surprised.

oO0Oo

"_Treasure hunter, Brock Lovett is best known for finding Spanish gold in sunken galleons in the Caribbean. Now, he is using deep submergence technology to work two and a half miles down at another famous wreck: the RMS Titanic. He is with us live via satellite from a Russian research ship in the middle of the North Atlantic. Hello, Brock_?" an announcer on TV, of CNN said.

_"Yes, hi, Tracy. You know, Titanic is not just a shipwreck, Titanic is THE shipwreck. It's the Mount Everest of shipwrecks."_ Brock said.

Near the TV there was in the living room of a small house and a ceramic studio. The walls had paintings, drawing, photographs, things collected over a lifetime.

Outside the house, out the glassed-in studio, it was a quiet morning in Ojai, California. Inside the student, there was a small old woman, throwing at a pot on a potter's wheel as a woman in her early 40's assists her.

_ "I've planned this expedition for 3 years, and we're out here recovering some amazing things. Things that will have enormous historical and educational value."_ Brock continued.

_"But it's no secret that education is not in your main purpose. You're a treasure hunter. So, what is the treasure you're hunting_?" the announcer asked.

_ "I'd rather show you than tell you, and we think we're very close to doing just that_." Brock said.

The old woman's, named Sharpay Calvert, face was a wrinkled mass, her body shapeless and shrunken under a one-piece African-print dress. But her eyes were just as bright and alive as those of a young girl.

Sharpay got up and walked into the living room, wiping pottery clay from her hands with a rag. A Yorkshire little dog got up and went with her. The younger woman, Lizzy Calvert, rushed up to her.

"Turn that up please, dear." Sharpay said, looking at the TV. Lizzy looked at the TV and turned the volume up.

_"Your expedition is at the center of a storm of controversy over salvage rights and even ethics. Many are calling you a grave robber._" The announcer said.

"_Nobody called the recovery of the artifacts from King's Tut's tomb grave robbing. I museum-trained experts here, making sure this stuff is preserved and catalogued properly. Look at this drawing, which was found today._" Brock said.

The video camera panned off Brock and to the drawing in a tray of water.

_"This is a piece of paper that's been underwater for 84 years and my team is able to preserve it intact. Should this have remained unseen at the bottom of the ocean for eternity when we can see it and enjoy it now…?"_ Brock spoke.

Sharpay was shocked and galvanized by that image. Her mouth hanged open in amusement.

"I'll be God damned." She said.

The Mir subs were being launched, Mir 2 was already in the water and Brock was getting ready to climb into Mir 1, when Bobby ran up to him.

"There's a satellite call for you." He said.

"Bobby, we're launching. See, the submersibles here, going in the water? Take a message." Brock said impatiently.

"No, trust me: you _want_ to take this call." Bobby said. Brock stared at him confused, but decided to take the call.

Bobby handed Brock the phone, pushing it down the blinking line.

"This is Brock Lovett. What can I do for you, Mrs…?"

"Calvert. Sharpay Calvert." Bobby said.

"Mrs. Calvert?" Brock asked.

"I was wondering if you had found the Heart of the Ocean yet, Mr. Lovett." Sharpay spoke. Brock almost dropped the phone. Bobby saw his shocked expression and chuckled.

"I told you you wanted to take the call." Bobby said.

"Alright, you have my attention, Sharpay. Can you tell me who the woman in the picture is?" Brock asked.

"Oh yes. The woman in the picture is me." Sharpay said with a small smile.

oO0Oo

Brock and Lewis were watching Mir 2 being swung over the side to start a dive.

"She's a goddamned liar! A nutcase. Like that… what's her name? That Anastasia babe." Lewis said.

"They're inbound." Bobby said.

Brock nodded and the three head forward to meet the approaching helicopter.

"She says she's Sharpay Elizabeth Evans, right? Sharpay Elizabeth Evans died on the Titanic at the age of 17. If she'd lived, she'd be over a 100 now." Lewis said.

"A 101 next month." Brock said.

"Okay, so she's a very _old_ goddamn liar! I traced her as far back as the 20's, when she was working as an actress in LA. An actress! Her name was Sharpay Montez, then she married some guy named Calvert, moved to Cedar Rapids and had two kids. Now Calvert's dead and from what I've heard Cedar Rapids is dead!" Lewis said.

The helicopter approaches the ship, forcing Brock to yell back to Lewis.

"And everybody who knows about the diamond is supposed to be dead or on this ship. But she knows about it. And I want to hear what she has to say. Got it?" Brock spoke.

With a loud noise, the helicopter's wheels bounce on the helipad.

Brock, Lewis and Bobby watch as the helicopter chiefs handed out about 10 suitcases and then Rose is lowered to the deck in a wheelchair by Kyeldish crewman. Lizzy followed her out, carrying Boi, the Yorkshire.

The crew chief hands a puzzled Kyeldish crewman a goldfish bowl with several fish in it. Sharpay did not travel light.

"Excuse me, I have to go check our supply Depends." Brock said and left.

Lizzy was unpacking Sharpay's things inside the small room, while Sharpay was placing photo frames on the bureau next to the fishbowl.

Brock and Lewis were standing in the doorway.

"Is your stateroom alright?" Brock asked.

"Yes, very nice." Sharpay said. "Have you met my granddaughter, Lizzy? She takes care of me." Sharpay smiled.

"Yes, we met just a few minutes ago." Lizzy smiled at Brock and Lewis. "Remember, nana? Up on deck?"

"Oh yes." Sharpay said.

Brock looked over at Lewis, who rolled his eyes.

Sharpay finished arranging the photos. They were the usual snapshots: children, grandchildren and her late husband.

"There, that's nice." Sharpay smiled. "I have to have my pictures when I travel. And Boi of course." Sharpay smiled at the little dog. "Isn't that right, sweetie?"

"Would you like anything?" Brock asked.

"Yes. I would like to see my drawing." Sharpay said.

oO0Oo

Sharpay looked at the drawing in its tray of water, confronting herself across a span of 84 years. Until they could figure out the best way to preserve it, they had to keep it immersed.

Sharpay closed her eyes. Remembering the artist's hands, holding the pencil, shakily. She remembered the brown eyes looking intently back at hers, then back at the pad. She smiled.

Brock had the reference photo of the necklace in his hand.

"Louis XVI wore a fabulous stone, called the Blue Diamond of the Crown, which disappeared in 1792, about that time Louis lost everything from the neck up. The theory goes that the crown diamond was chopped too, recut into a heart-like shape and it became_ La Coeur de la Mer_. The Heart of the Ocean. Today, it would be worth more than the Hope Diamond." Brock said.

"It was a dreadful, heavy thing." Sharpay said and pointed at the drawing. "I only wore it this once."

"You actually believe this is you, Nana?" Lizzy asked.

"It _is_ me, dear." Sharpay said. "Wasn't I a hottie?"

"I tracked it down through insurance records and old claim that was settled under terms of absolute secrecy. Do you know what the claimant was, Sharpay?" Brock asked.

"I should imagine someone named Bolton." Sharpay said.

"Jack Bolton, yes." Brock said with a small smile, nodding. "Albuquerque steel tycoon. For a diamond his son Troy Bolton bought it France for his fiancée… you." He said. "A week before he sailed on in Titanic. And the claim was filled right after the sinking. So the diamond had to've gone down with the ship." He turned to Lizzy. "See the date?"

"April 14th, 1912." Lizzy read out loud.

"If your grandmother is who she says she is, she was wearing the diamond the day the Titanic sank." Brock said and turned back to Sharpay. "Which makes you my new best friend. I will happily compensate you for anything you can tell us that will lead to its recovery."

"I don't want your money, Mr. Lovett. I know how hard it is for people who care greatly for money to give some away." She said.

"So you don't want anything?" Lewis asked, skeptically.

Sharpay pointed the drawing.

"You may give me this, if anything I tell you is of value." She said.

"Deal." Brock said.

Sharpay crossed the recovery room and Brock pointed a worktable.

"Over here are a few things we've recovered from your stateroom." Brock said.

Sharpay looked over at the table, with 50 or so objects, varying from mundane to valuable. Sharpay, shrunken in the chair, couldn't see anything. With a trembling hand, she lifted a tortoise shell hand mirror, inlaid with mother of pearl. She caressed it, wondering with a smile.

"This was mine. How extraordinary!" she said and looked over at Lizzy, who was standing right next to her. "It looks the same as it did the last time I saw it." She said.

She turned the mirror and looked at the old face reflected in the lightly cracked mirror.

"The reflection has changed a bit." She said, putting the mirror down.

As Sharpay picked a hairbrush and other objects, Broch approaches her.

"Are you ready to go back to Titanic?" he asked. She looked at him and sighed.

In lined with many TV monitors, images of the ship wreck, fed from Mir 1 and Mir 2, the two ROVs, Snoop and Duncan.

Sharpay stared raptly at the screen of one small TV. She is enthralled by one particular: the image of a bow railing. Brock watched her reaction carefully.

"The bow's struck in the bottom like an axe, from the impact. Here, I can run a simulation we worked up on this monitor over here." Lewis said.

Lizzy turned Sharpay's chair so she could watch the monitor Lewis indicated.

"We've put together the world's largest database on Titanic. Okay, here…" he said.

"Sharpay might not want to see it, Lewis." Brock warned him.

"No, it's fine. I'm curious." Sharpay said.

Lewis started a computer animated graphic on the screen, narrating it as well.

"She hits the berg on the starboard side and it sort of bumps along, punching holes like a Morse code. Dit dit dit down the side." Lewis said. "Now she's flooding in the forward compartments and the water spills over the tops of the bulkheads, going aft. As her bow is going down, her stern is coming up, slow at first and then faster and faster until it's lifting all weight, maybe 20 or 30 thousand tons out of the water and the hull can't teal so skrrtttt!" he said, making a sound in time with the animation. "it splits. Right down to the keel, which acts like a big hinge. Now the bow swings and the stern falls back level, but the bow pulls the stern vertical and then the bow section detaches, heading for the bottom. The stern bobs like a cork, floods and goes under about 2:20 AM, 2 hours and 40 minutes after the collusion." Lewis finished and the animation followed.

Sharpay watched the animation without any emotion.

"The bow pulls out of its dive and planes away, almost half a mile, before it hits the bottom, going maybe 12 miles an hour. KABOOM!" Lewis said as the animation ship hit the seafloor. "The stern implodes as it sinks, from the pressure, and rips apart from the force of the current as it falls, landing like a big pile of junk." He finished and looks at Sharpay with a smile. "Pretty cool, huh?"

"Thank you for that fine forensic analysis, Mr. Bodine. Of course, the experience of it was… somewhat different." She said, looking up at the screen.

"Will you share with us?" Brock asked. Sharpay's eyes went back to the screens, showing the sad ruins far below them. She remembered 30 different flashes of people screaming, desperate and a voice saying 'women and children only' in the back.

Sharpay looked at another monitor, Snoop Dog's vision moving down a rusted debris-filled corridor. Sharpay watched the endless row of doorways sliding past, like dark mouths. She suddenly has a flashback of a crying child, standing in the middle of the same corridor, as the water is ankle deep, and the child is all alone, crying, desperately.

Sharpay was shaken by the flood of memories and emotions. Her eyes welled up and she put her head up, sobbing quietly. Lizzy saw that and approached the wheelchair.

"I'm taking her to rest." She said.

"No!" Sharpay said, her voice surprisingly strong, making the fragile old lady disappear.

Lizzy immediately stepped back.

Brock signaled everyone to stay quiet.

"Tell us, Sharpay." He said in a soft tone.

Sharpay looked from screen to screen, of images of the ruined ship and sighed.

"It's been 84 years…" she started.

"Just tell us what you can-" Brock started. Sharpay interrupted him by holding up a hand, making him shut up.

"It's been 84 years… and I can still smell the fresh paint…" Sharpay looked up. "the china had never been used. The sheets had never been slept in."

Brock switched the minirecorder and set it near her.

"Titanic was called The Ship of Dreams…" she recalls with a smile. "and it was. It really was…"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 – The Unsinkable Ship

In Southampton, England, April 10th 1912, the gleaming, glorious Titanic was standing in the water, surrounded by thousands of people.

A gorgeous burgundy Renault touring car swung into the ship, hanging from a loading cane. It was being lowered toward Hatch number 2.

Oh the pier, horse drawn vehicles, motorcars and lorries moved slowly through the crowd. The atmosphere there was of excitement and general giddiness. People were embracing each other in tearful farewells, or waving, shouting 'bon voyage' to the ones aboard.

A white Renault, leading a silver Daimler-Benz, pushed through the crowd leaving a wake in press of people. Around the cars, people were streaming to board the ship, jostling with hustling seamen and stokers, porters and barking White Star Line officials.

The Renault stopped and the diver scurried to open the door for a young woman, dressed in a stunning purple and white outfit, with an enormous feathered hat. She was 17 years old, had gorgeous, long blonde hair with soft curls, regal of bearing, with the most beautiful chocolate, piercing eyes.

Sharpay takes in the atmosphere and looks up at the giant ship with indifference.

"I don't see what all the fuss is about." She said. "It doesn't look any bigger than the Mauretania."

The driver opened the door to the other side of the car, to a chestnut haired, blue eyed gorgeous man, named Troy Bolton, heir to the Bolton's fortune. He was about 30 years old, arrogant, handsome and rich beyond meaning.

"You can be blasé about some things, Sharpay, but not about Titanic." Troy said. "It's over a 100 feet longer than the Mauretania, and _far _more luxurious. It has squash courts, a Parisian café, even Turkish baths."

Troy turned around and helped Sharpay's mother, Ruth, getting out of the car. Ruth looked a lot like Sharpay. She had short blonde hair and the same brown eyes, only Ruth had a smile as she got out of the car.

"Your daughter is much too hard to impress, Ruth." Troy said. "Mind your step."

Ruth glanced over at Titanic.

"So this is the ship they say is unsinkable." She said.

"It _is _unsinkable. God himself couldn't sink this ship." Troy spoke with pride.

Troy's valet, Chad Danforth, shows up behind him, with a serious look. Behind him, two maids, Ruth and Sharpay's personal servants.

A White Star Line porter walked up to Troy.

"Sir, you'll have to check your baggage through this main terminal, round that way-" he said.

"I put my faith in _you, _good sir." Troy cut him off, giving the man a fiver. The porter's eyes widened. Five pounds was a monster tip in those days.

Troy pointed Chad.

"See my man." He said.

"Yes sir, my pleasure sir." The porter said as Troy walked away to meet Sharpay and Ruth.

"Alright. Three trunks from here, 12 from the Daimler. We'll have all this up in the rooms." Chad explained.

The porter looked stricken when he saw the pile of baggage he was supposed to carry. He whistled for some cargo-handlers, who came running.

Troy watched this and smiled, checking on his pocket watch.

"We'd better hurry. This way, ladies." He said.

Troy was jostled by two yelling steerage boys who shove past him.

"Steady!" he said.

"Sorry, squire!" the man said.

"Steerage swine. Apparently missed his annual bath." Troy said.

"Honestly, Troy, if you weren't booking everything at the last instant, we could have gone through the terminal instead of running along the dock like squalid immigrant family." Ruth said.

"All part of my charm, Ruth." Troy said with a smile. "At any rate, it was my darling fiancée's beauty rituals which made us late."

"You told me to change." Sharpay said to him.

"I couldn't you let you wear black on sailing day, sweat pea." Troy said. "It's bad luck."

"I felt like black." Sharpay answered.

Troy guided them out of the path of a horse-drawn wagon for Titanic's Victualing Department.

"Here I've pulled every string I could to book us on the grandest ship in history, in her most luxurious suites and you act and you act is you're going to your executions." Troy said.

Sharpay looked up as the hull of Titanic loomed over them, a great iron wall, Bible black and sever. Troy motioned her forward, and she entered the gangway to the D Deck with a sense of overwhelming dread.

_It was the Ship of Dreams… to everyone else. To me, it was a slave ship, taking me back to America in chains._

Troy's hand holds Sharpay's arm possessively. He escorted her up the gangway and the black hull of Titanic swallowed them.

_Outwardly, I was everything a well brought-up girl should be. Inside, I was screaming._

Inside a pub, out the window, the Titanic was seen. Near the window, in a table, four people were playing poker. Two men and two girls.

One brunette girl, poor looking, wearing working class clothes, but beautiful anyway, held old red cards as she looked at them. She was sitting next to a black girl, who also held the old red cards.

The two girls exchange a glance as the two men argue in Swedish.

Gabriella, the brunette girl, was American. She had very long hair, although it didn't look that much healthy, she looked a bit dirty, like she hadn't showered in weeks. Her clothes were rumpled because she slept in them. She had adopted a bohemian style of art scene in Paris. She had been living on her own since she was 13.

"You stupid fish head! I can't believe you bet our tickets!" Olaf, one of the Swedish men said, in Swedish of course.

"You lost our money, I'm just trying to get it back." Sven, the other Swedish man, answered. "Now shut up and take a card."

"Hit me again, Sven." Gabriella said, jaunty.

Gabriella took the card and slipped into her hand.

Taylor, Gabriella's Italian, friend, licked her lips nervously and refused a card.

In the middle of the table, there were a lot of coins, money bills and two 3rd class tickets to the RMS Titanic.

The Titanic's whistle blew again: the final warning.

"The moment of truth, boys. Somebody's life's about to change." Gabriella said.

Taylor and the Swedes put their cards on the table.

"Tay's got _niente. _Olaf, you've got squat. Sven…" Gabriella said. "Oh oh… two pair." She said as she looked at Sven's cards, then back at hers. She turned to Taylor. "I'm sorry, Taylor."

Taylor immediately grew angry.

"What sorry? What you got? You lose my money?! Ma va fa'n culo testa di cazzo-" Taylor started cursing in Italian.

"Sorry, you're not gonna see your mom again for a _long _time…" Gabriella said and slapped a full house on the table, grinning. "'Cause you're going to America. Full house boys!" she said, laughing, excitedly.

"Porca Madonna!" Taylor said and started screaming in celebration.

The table exploded in shouting in three different languages.

"Sorry boys. Three kind of a pair. I'm high and you're dry…" she said and looked at them again, with a grin. "How does it feel losing to girls?" she then turned to Taylor. "We're going to…"

"_L'America_!" the two girls screamed in excitement.

Olaf balled a huge fist and grabbed Gabriella's collar. She closed her eye, ready to receive the punch, but surprisingly, Olaf punches Sven square on the face. The two immediately forget about the two girls.

Gabriella and Taylor were dancing around, Gabriella was kissing the tickets, happily while Taylor continued to celebrate in Italian.

"I'm goin' home! To the land of free and the home of the real hot dogs!" Gabriella said. "On the Titanic! We're ridin' in high style now! We're practically goddamned royalty, _ragazza mia_!" Gabriella said to Taylor.

"You see? Is my _destino_! Like I told you, I go to _l'America_ to be a millionaire!" Taylor said. She turned to the pub keeper. "Capito? I go to America!"

"No, ma'am._ Titanic _goes to America. In 5 minutes!" he said, pointing the clock, showing 11:55.

"Shit! Come on, Tay!" she said, grabving their stuff. "It's been grand." She said, grinning to everyone as she and Taylor ran out the door.

Gabriella and Taylor, carrying everything they owned, which wasn't much, in the bag in their shoulders, sprint towards the pier. They tore through milling crowd next to the terminal. They hear shouts as they bump and hit some gentlemen, moving slowly across the pier, but neither of them pays attention.

Taylor leaded Gabriella to the third class gangway aft, at E Deck. They reach the bottom of the ramp as 6th Officer Moody detaches at the top. It started to swing down the gangway doors.

"Wait! We're passengers!" Gabriella said, panting as she waves the tickets.

"Have you been through the inspection queue?" Moody asked.

"Of course!" Gabriella lied. "Anyway, we don't have a lice, we're Americans. Both of us." she pointed herself and Taylor.

"Right, come aboard." Moody said, testy.

Moody had Quartermaster Rowe reattach the gangway. Gabriella and Taylor came aboard as Moody glances at the tickets, then passed Gabriella and Taylor through Rowe. Rowe looked at the names on the ticket to enter them in the passenger list.

"Gundersen. And…" he read Taylor's. "Gundersen." He handed the ticket back, eyeing Taylor's African look suspiciously.

"Come on, Sven." Gabriella said, grabbing Taylor's arm.

Gabriella and Taylor whooped in victory as they ran down the white colored corridor, grinning from ear to ear, both.

"We are the luckiest… _daughters _of bitches in the world!" she said, chuckling. Taylor giggled and agreed.

On the pier, seven tugs pull the Titanic away from the quay.

Gabriella and Taylor burst through a door onto the aft well deck. They ran across the deck and up the steel stairs to the poop deck. They got to the rail and Gabriella started yelling and waving to the crowd on the dock.

"You know somebody?" Taylor asked, confused. Gabriella chuckled.

"Of course not. That's not the point." She answered and turned back to the crowd. "Goodbye! Goodbye! I'll miss you!"

Taylor, grinning, added her voice to the swell of voices, feeling the exhilaration of the moment.

"Goodbye! I will never forget you!" she yelled as Gabriella laughed.

The crowd watched cheerfully as Titanic gained speed and started to move on its own.

Gabriella and Taylor walk through the white corridors, between many other people, arguing over their luggage, other trying to find their rooms. The two passed emigrants, studying the signs over the doors, looking over the word in phrase books.

They found their berth and came in. It was a modest cubicle, painted in white with four bunks and exposed pipes overhead. The other two girls were already there, who were Sven and Olaf's sisters.

Gabriella throws her kit on one open bunk, while Taylor takes the other.

A blond, pale skinned girl turned to the other with a puzzled look.

"Where's Sven?" she asked, in Swedish.

oO0Oo

The so-called Millionaire Suite was in Empire Style, and had two bedrooms, a bath, a WC, wardrobe room and a large sitting room. In addition, there was a 50 foot promenade deck outside.

A waiter pours champagne into a tulip glass of orange juice and handed the Bucks Fizz to Sharpay, who was looking through her paintings. There was Monet of water lilies, a Degas of ballerinas and a few abstract works. All unknown paintings, lost work.

Troy was out on the covered deck, talking through the doorway to Sharpay in the sitting room.

"Those mud puddles were certainly a waste of money." He said.

Sharpay looked through a cubist abstract.

"You're wrong." She said. "They're fascinating. Like being inside a dream… there's truth but no logic. What's his name again…?" she said, reading from the canvas. "Picasso…"

"Picasso." Troy said laughing as he came into the sitting room. "He won't amount to a thing. He won't, trust me. At least they were cheap." He said with a shrug.

A porter wheels Troy's safe into the room with a hand truck.

"Put that in the wardrobe." Troy said.

Sharpay entered the bedroom with the huge Degas of the ballerinas. She set it on the dresser, near the canopy bed. Trudy, her personal servant, was there, hanging some of Sharpay's clothes.

"It smells so brand new. Like they built it all just for us." Trudy said. "I mean… just to think tonight, when I crawl between the sheets-"

Troy appeared in the living room.

"And when I crawl between the sheets tonight, I'll still be the first." He said.

Trudy blushed at the innuendo.

"Excuse me, miss." She said, leaving the room.

Troy came behind Sharpay and puts his hands on her shoulders, an act of possession, not intimacy.

"The first and only. Forever." He said.

Sharpay's expression could show how bleak a prospect this was for her, now.

oO0Oo

At evening, when the sun was setting, inside the ship, near the elevators on E Deck, a woman carrying a suitcase in each hand was standing. A porter ran to catch up with her to take the begs.

"Well, I wasn't about to wait all day for you, sonny." She said. "Take 'em the rest of the way, if you think you can manage."

_At Cherbourg a woman came aboard named Margaret Brown, but we all called her Molly. History would call her the Unsinkable Molly Brown. Her husband had struck gold someplace out west, and she was what mother called 'new money'._

45-year-old Molly Brown was one tough talking who dressed in the finery of her genteel peers, but will never be one of them.

_By the next afternoon we had made our final stop and we were steaming west from the coast of Ireland, with nothing ahead of us, but ocean._

Gabriella and Taylor stood outside of the glowing ship, standing right at the bow, gripping the curving railings. Gabriella leaned over, looking down 50 feet to where the prow cuts the surface like a knife.

On the bridge, Captain Smith turned from the binnacle to first officer William Murdoch, with a smile.

"Take her to sea, Mr. Murdoch. Let's stretch her legs." He said proudly.

William moved to the engine telegraph and lever all ahead full. After a few minutes, he went back over to Captain Smith's side.

"21 knots, sir." He informed. Captain Smith nodded and smiled proudly, looking ahead of him.

"She's got a bone in her teeth now, eh, Mr. Murdoch." Captain Smith said and accepted a cup of tea from the fifth officer Lowe.

As Gabriella and Taylor leaned over, they could see two dolphins appear through the glassy bow-wave, in front of the steel blade of the prow. The two dolphins seemed to be happy and enjoying themselves, just like the girls watching them.

Taylor looked up at the horizon, filled with water, only ocean in her view.

"I can see the Statue of Liberty already." She said to Gabriella. "Very small, of course." Gabriella laughed.

"I'm the queen of the world!" Gabriella screamed, opening her arms as she felt the wind blowing through her hair and body.

oO0Oo

"She is the largest moving object ever made by the hand of man in all history." Mr. Ismay said as he sat at a table in the Palm Court with Mr. Andrews, Molly, Ruth, Sharpay and Troy. " And our shipbuilder, Mr. Andrews, here, built her designed her from the keel plates up."

Mr. Ismay indicated an attractive 39-year-old man, sitting by his side.

"Well, I may have knocked her together, but the idea was Mr. Ismay's. He envisioned a steamer so grand in scale and so luxurious in its appointments that its supremacy would never be challenged." He said. "And here it is." He slapped the table twice. "Willed into sold reality."

"Why're ships always bein' called 'she'? Is it because men think half the women around have big sterns and should be weighed in tonnage?" Molly asked, making the table laugh. "Just another example of men settin' the rules their way."

The waiter approached the group to take orders and Sharpay lit a cigarette.

"You know I don't like that, Sharpay." Ruth said quietly to her daughter. Sharpay looked at her and blew some smoke at her face.

"She knows." Troy said, grabbing her cigarette and putting it out. He then turned to the waiter. "We'll both have the lamb. Rare, with a little mint sauce." The waiter nodded and moved away to take the rest of the orders and Troy turned to Sharpay. "You like lamb, right, sweat pea?"

Sharpay looked up at him and faked a smile, which went unnoticed by him.

"So, you gonna cut her meat for her too there, Troy?" Molly asked, jokingly, watching the two interact. She then turned to Thomas and Bruce. "So? Who thought of the name Titanic? Was it you, Bruce?" she asked Mr. Ismay.

"Yes, actually." Mr. Ismay answered. "I wanted to convey sheer size. And size means stability, luxury… and safety…"

"You know Dr. Freud, Mr. Ismay?" Sharpay asked him. "His ideas about male preoccupation with size might be of particular interest to you." She said.

Mr. Andrews chocked on his breadstick, trying to suppress his laughter.

"My God, Sharpay, what's gotten into-" Ruth started.

"Excuse me." Sharpay said, standing up. She walked away and left.

Ruth was mortified by her daughter's behavior, she'd never seen her behave like that.

"I do apologize." She said to the group.

"She's a pistol, Troy." Molly said. "You sure you can handle her?"

Troy was tense, but he pretended to be unconcerned.

"Well, I may have to start minding what she reads from now on." He said.

Gabriella was sitting at a branch outside, beside Taylor. Her knees were pulled up, supporting her leather bound sketching pad, her only valuable possession. She was drawing an emigrant holding his 5-year-old daughter, standing on the lower rung of the rail. The girl was leaned back against her father's beer barrel of a stomach, watching the seagulls.

Gabriella kept drawing, with a god sense of humanity. She was a wonderful artist. Taylor looked over her shoulder and nodded at her friend's work.

As a man holding a bunch of different dog leashes walked by, a brunette girl with pale skin and blue eyes took a cigarette off her mouth.

"Oh that's typical. First class dogs come here to take a shit." She said.

Gabriella giggled and looked up from her sketch.

"That's so we know where we rank in the scheme of things." She said. The girl giggled.

"Like we could forget." She commented. She takes her hand out. "I'm Kelsi Nielsen."

Gabriella shakes her hand.

"Gabriella Montez." She said, shaking Kelsi's hand. Kelsi then shook Taylor's hand.

"Taylor." The girl said.

Gabriella glanced over across the well deck. At the aft railing of B Deck, she spotted the most gorgeous human being she's ever seen. She had blonde hair and an angelic face, but she looked sad as she stared off into the horizon. She wore a white and green dress with a red belt on her waist.

Gabriella was 'that' kind of girl that society disliked. She was into girls, and Taylor knew that. She'd known for a while and she didn't mind. Gabriella didn't mind that society didn't like her because of that, because it wasn't like she was a big part of society already.

Gabriella couldn't take her eyes off of the blonde, though. At one moment, she saw the blonde let out a breath and look around, until she met her gaze. She looked away a few seconds later, but looked again at her.

At this point, Taylor was waving her hand in front of Gabriella, giggling.

"Oh, forget it, girlie." Kelsi said, recognizing Gabriella as one of those girls. "You'd as like have angels fly out o' arse as get next to the likes of her."

Gabriella continued to stare, though. The blonde seemed so frustrated, it was like something was bothering her. Gabriella wanted to go up there and ask her what was wrong.

An attractive man came behind her and took her arm, but the blonde jerked away. The argued a little bit, and she walked away. The man followed her and disappeared along the A Deck promenade.

oO0Oo

Sharpay sat in the First Class dining room surrounded by people. Troy and Ruth were laughing together, while on the other side, Lady Duff-Gordon was holding forth animatedly. Sharpay couldn't hear what they were saying, she was staring at her plate.

_I saw my whole life as if I'd already lived it. An endless parade of parties and cotillions, yachts and polo matches… always the same narrow people, the same mindless chatter. I felt like I was standing at a great precipice, with no one to pull me back. No one who cared… or even noticed._

Sharpay looked down at her hand. She had grabbed the fork from the table and was holding it tightly against her arm. She poked the fork against her skin, harder and harder until it drew blood.

oO0Oo

Sharpay walked along the corridor with her head held high up. A steward coming from the other direction greeted her and she nodded along with a smile, perfectly composed.

Sharpay entered her room and looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair pulled up in a gorgeous bun and her red dress with her jewelry. She hated it. She suddenly clawed at her throat, gripping her pearl necklace, making it explode across the room. She tore herself, her hair, her dress and then started 'attacking' the room. She threw everything off the dresser, making everything fly across the room and crash against the wall. She then hurled a mirror against the vanity, cracking it.

Sharpay ran along the B Deck, her hair was flying, her cheeks filled with tears. But also angry, furious. She was shaking with emotions she didn't understand… hatred, self-hatred and depression. She walked past a couple, who seemed to be shocked by her emotional display in public.

oO0Oo

Gabriella was lying on a bench comfortably. Almost. She was staring up at the beautiful starts in the night sky as she smoked a cigarette and thought artists thoughts. As she heard something, she sat up, seeing a blonde person run past her, without even noticing her.

Sharpay ran across the deserted fantail. Her breath hitched with a sob, which she suppressed. She slam against base of the stern flagpole and stopped for a moment, panting and staring out at the dark waters below her.

She slowly started to climb over the railing, hitching her long red dress way up. She moved and got her body and got her heels on the white-painted gunwale, her back to the railing, facing down the water and the blackness.

She leaned out, her arms straightening out, looking hypnotized into the vortex below her. Her hair and dress were half lifted by the wind of the ship's movement. The only sound above the rush of the water below was flutter and snap of the big Union.

"Don't do it." Gabriella suddenly said.

Sharpay whipped her hair around at the sound of her voice. It took a moment for her eyes to focus.

"Stay back! Don't come any closer!" she said.

Gabriella saw the tear tracks on her cheeks in faint glow from the stern running lights.

"Take my hand. I'll pull you back over." Gabriella said, taking a step, reaching out her hand.

"No! Stay where you are. I mean it." Sharpay said. "I'll let go!"

"No you won't." Gabriella said, taking a step towards Sharpay.

Sharpay looks at her shocked.

"What do you mean 'no I won't'? Don't presume to tell me what I will and will not do, you don't know me!" Sharpay said, insulted. Gabriella shrugged.

"You would have done it already." She said and took a step towards her and reached out her hand. "Now come on, take my hand."

Sharpay was confused. She couldn't see the other girl's face, but she stared down at her hand and she could see the dirt in it. She was disgusted. She wiped her tears with one hand and almost lost her balance.

"You're distracting me, go away!" she said.

"I can't. I'm involved now." Gabriella said with another shrug. "If you let go, I have to jump in after you."

"Don't be absurd. You'll be killed." Sharpay said.

Gabriella took off her big jacket.

"I'm a good swimmer." She said.

"The fall alone would kill you." Sharpay said.

"It would hurt. I'm not saying it wouldn't." Gabriella said and looked down at the water. "To be honest I'm a lot more concerned about that water being so cold."

The reality of what she was doing was finally sinking in.

"How cold?" Sharpay asked.

Gabriella took off her left shoe.

"Freezing. Maybe a couple degrees over." She said, unlacing her right shoe's lace. "Ever been to Wisconsin?"

Sharpay looked at her, perplex.

"No."

"Well, they have some of the coldest winters around, and I grew up there near Chippewa Falls." Gabriella said. "Once when I was a kid, my dad and I went ice-fishing out on Lake Wissota." She smiled at the memory, but quickly turned to Sharpay. "Ice-fishing's where you chop a hole in the-"

"I know what ice-fishing is!" Sharpay said, impatiently.

Gabriella almost giggled.

"Sorry." She said. "Just… you look like kind of an indoor girl. Anyway, I went through some thin ice and I'm tellin' ya, water that cold… like right down there… it hits you like a _thousand _knives stabbing you all over your body." Gabriella looked down at the water she remembered. "You can't breathe, you can't think… at least not about anything but the pain."

Sharpay watched her tell the story, getting a little afraid of letting go of the railing.

Gabriella sighed and shrugged again, taking off her right shoe.

"Which is why I'm not looking forward to jumping in there after you." She said. "But like I said, I don't have a choice. I guess I'm kinda hoping you'll come back over the rail and get me off the hook here."

Sharpay gave her a look.

"You're crazy."

Gabriella chuckled.

"That's what everybody says." She said. "But, with all due respect, miss, I'm not the one hanging off the back of a ship, here."

Gabriella took the final step and stood almost beside Sharpay.

"Come on, you don't want to do this." She said, reaching her hand out to her again. "Give me your hand."

Sharpay stared at the mad girl for a quite a long time. She looked at her eyes and somehow she felt something inside her.

"Alright." She unfastened one hand and grabbed Gabriella's, not caring about how dirty it was. Gabriella took it firmly.

"I'm Gabriella Montez." She said.

"Please to meet you, Ms. Montez." She said, her voice quavering.

Sharpay started to turn. Now that she decided to live, the height was terrifying. She had been overcome by vertigo as she shifted her footing, turning to face the ship. As she started to climb back, her dress got in the way. She stepped on it and slipped, falling off the edge of the deck, letting out a piercing shriek. Gabriella, gripping her hand, was jerked towards the rail, but stands firmly. Sharpay barely grabs a rail with her free hand.

The quartermaster Rowe heard the scream and headed for the ladder.

"Help! Help!" Sharpay screamed.

"I've got you. I won't let go." Gabriella said.

Gabriella held her hand with all her strength, bracing herself on the railing with her other hand. Sharpay tried to get some kind of foothold on the smooth hull. Gabriella tried to lift her body over the railing. Sharpay couldn't get any footing on her dress and evening shoes and she slipped back, screaming loudly again.

Gabriella awkwardly clutching Sharpay by whatever she could grip on as she flailed, got her over the railing. The two fall together onto the deck in a tangled heap, spinning in such a way that Gabriella fell slightly on top of Sharpay.

Sharpay slid down the ladder from the docking bridge like it was a fire drill and sprinted across the fantail.

"Here, what's all this?" Rowe asked. He saw Sharpay sobbing quietly on the ground, trembling, her dress torn to her knee, showing her ripped stocking, her hair all over the place. She looked at Gabriella, the shaggy steerage girl with her jacket off, and the first class lady clearly in distress, and started drawing conclusions.

Two seamen chugged across the deck to join them.

"Here you, stand back! Don't move an inch!" he said to Gabriella.

Gabriella calmly stood up and stepped back, putting her hands on her pockets.

Rowe looked at the seamen.

"Fetch the Master at Arms!"

oO0Oo

Gabriella was being detained by the Master at Arms and handcuffed by him. Troy was right in front of her, furious. He had just rushed her with Chad and another men, and none of them had coats over their black tie evening dress.

Colonel Archibald Gracie, a man with white hair and a mustache, holding his brandy offered it to Sharpay, who was hunched over crying in a bench nearby.

Troy didn't care Gabriella was a girl, he grabbed her by the collar.

"What made you _think _you could put your hands on _my _fiancée?!" he yelled. Gabriella was looking over at Sharpay. "Look at me, you filth dyke!" he yelled, getting Gabriella's attention. She was slightly insulted. "What did you think you were doing?!"

"Troy, stop! It was an accident!" Sharpay said. Troy turned to her.

"An accident?" he asked.

"It was." Sharpay said. "I was leaning over and I slipped." She looked over at Gabriella, when Troy let go of her collar. "I was leaning over to see the ah… the propellers. And I slipped and I would have gone overboard… and Ms. Montez here saved me and almost went over herself."

"You want to see the propellers?" Troy asked, not believing it.

Archibald shook his head.

"Women and machinery do not mix."

The Master at Arms looked at Gabriella.

"Was that the way of it?" he asked her.

Gabriella looked at Sharpay and saw her begging with her eyes not to tell them what really happened.

"Uh huh." She said. "That was pretty much it."

Gabriella looked at Sharpay, knowing now they had a secret. Sharpay was thanking him with her eyes now.

"Well! The girl's a heroine then. Good for you, miss, well done." Archibald said to Gabriella.

The Master at Arms took the handcuffs off Gabriella, while Troy called Sharpay to get to her feet and moving.

"So it's all's well and back to our brandy, eh?" he said to Troy.

Troy starts rubbing Sharpay's arms.

"Let's get you in. You're freezing." He said to her. He was leaving without a second thought of Gabriella.

"Perhaps a little something for the girl?" Archibald said in a low voice to Troy.

"Oh right." Troy turned to Chad. "Danforth, a $20 should do it."

Sharpay stared at him.

"Is that the going rate for saving the woman you love?" she asked.

"Shar's displeased. What to do?" Troy asked himself, then turned to Gabriella. A steerage girl, surely ill-mannered and unwashed. "I know." He said and walked over to her. "Perhaps you could join us for dinner tomorrow, to regale our group with your heroic tale?"

Gabriella looked straight at Sharpay.

"Sure. Count me in." she said.

"Good. Settled then." Troy smiled and turned around. He put a protective arm around Sharpay, but leaned over to Archibald. "This should be amusing." He said, chuckling.

Chad passed by Gabriella to follow Troy, Sharpay and Archibald, until he's interrupted by Gabriella.

"Can I bum a cigarette?" she asked.

Chad drew a silver cigarette case from his pocket and snapped it open. Gabriella took one then another, popping one behind her ear for later. Chad lit Gabriella's cigarette and looked at her from feet to head.

"You'll want to tie those." He said, pointing down at Gabriella's black, dirty shoes. "Interesting that the young lady slipped so mighty all of a sudden and you still had time to remove your jacket _and _your shoes."

Chad spoke with a small smirk, but his eyes were cold.

Gabriella just stared at him for a few minutes, until he disappeared into the ship.

oO0Oo

Sharpay undressed for bed and saw Troy standing in her doorway reflected in the cracked mirror in her vanity. He smiled at her and came closer.

"I know you've been melancholy, and I don't pretend to know why." He said, unexpectedly tender. He handed her a large velvet jewel case, which Sharpay took numbly. "I intended to save this 'till the engagement gala next week. But I thought tonight, perhaps a reminder of my feelings for you."

Sharpay slowly opened the box. Inside, there was a necklace, inside there was the Heart of the Ocean. It was huge, a malevolent blue stone glittering with an infinity of scalpel-like inner reflections.

"My God Troy… is it a-"

"Diamond. Yes it is." Troy smiled at her. "56 carats."

He took the necklace and placed it around her throat, then turning to the mirror to see her reflection.

"It was once worn by Louis XVI. They called it La Coeur de la Mer, the-"

"The Heart of the Ocean." Sharpay and Troy said together.

"It's overwhelming." She said.

"It's for royalty. We _are _royalty." He said.

His fingers caressed her neck and throat. He seemed to be disarmed by Sharpay's elegance and beauty. He was, for the first time, unguarded.

"There's nothing I couldn't give you." He said, admiring her. "There's nothing I'd deny you if you don't deny me." He stared into her eyes. "Open your heart to me, Sharpay."

_Of course his gift was only to reflect light back onto himself, to illuminate the greatness that was Troy Bolton. It was a cold stone… a heart of ice._

oO0Oo

Saturday, April 13th 1912, Sharpay unlatched the gate to go down into third class. The steerage men stopped what they were doing to look at her.

Taylor was struggling to get a conversation going with an attractive Norwegian man.

"No Italian? Some little English?" she asked the man.

"No, no. Norwegian only." The man said.

The man's eye caught something he couldn't believe. Taylor looked and couldn't believe it too. Gabriella then looked back and saw Sharpay coming towards them.

The activity in the room stopped as Sharpay crossed the room, a hush falling into the room. Sharpay felt self-conscious as she walked across the room, the steerage passengers stared openly at this princess, some with resentment, others in awe.

Sharpay spotted Gabriella and gave her a little smile, walking towards her. Gabriella rose to meet her, smiling.

"Hello again." Gabriella said.

Taylor and Kelsi are shocked. They kept staring at Sharpay as if she was a vision. They knew it was the same girl that Kelsi said it was impossible for Gabriella to get, now she was between them, talking to her.

"Could I speak to you in private?" Sharpay asked.

"Uh, yes. Of course. After you." Gabriella said. She mentioned her ahead and followed her. She glanced over at her shoulder and raised an eyebrow at her friends as she walked out, leaving a stunned silence behind.

Sharpay and Gabriella walked side by side on the deck. They passed people reading, talking in steamer chairs, some of whom glanced curiously at the mismatched couple. Gabriella felt out of place in her rough clothes. They were both awkward, for different reasons.

"So, you got a name, by the way?" she asked Sharpay.

"Sharpay. Sharpay Elizabeth Evans." Sharpay answered.

"That's quite a moniker. I may have to get you to write that one down." Gabriella said and Sharpay chuckled.

There was an awkward pause.

"Ms. Montez, I-"

"Gabriella." Gabriella corrected her.

"Gabriella…" Sharpay corrected herself. "I feel like such an idiot. It took me all morning to get up the nerve to face you."

"Well, here you are." Gabriella said.

"Here I am." Sharpay nodded. "I… I want to thank you for what you did. Not… not just for pulling me back. But for you discretion."

"You're welcome, Sharpay." Gabriella said.

"And I need to say I'm sorry about Troy." Sharpay said. "I'm sure he didn't mean to call you a 'filth dyke'."

Gabriella shrugged.

"I'm used to it." She said. Sharpay looked at her.

"The filth part?" she asked.

"Not just the filth part." Gabriella said.

"So… you mean you are… attracted to girls?" she asked.

"Yes." Gabriella nodded. Sharpay seemed surprise, but not as surprised as Gabriella thought she'd be. "But that's okay." She shrugged again and looked at the floor.

"Look, I know what you must be thinking!" Sharpay said. "Poor little rich girl, what does _she _know about misery?"

Gabriella looked at her.

"No. That's not what I was thinking." Gabriella said, making Sharpay look up at her. "What I was thinking was what could've happened to hurt this girl so much she thought she had no way out."

Sharpay looked at her for a few moments and then sighed.

"I don't… it wasn't just one thing." She said. "It was everything. It was them, it was their world." Sharpay said. "I was trapped in it, like an insect in amber." She said. "I just had to get away… just run and run and run… and then I was at the back rail and there was no more ship… even Titanic wasn't big enough. Not enough to get away from them. And before I'd really thought about it, I was over the rail. I was furious! I'll show them. They'll be sorry!" Sharpay said, a few tears making their way to her eyes again, but she didn't let them fall.

Gabriella saw the hurt in her eyes.

"Uh huh. They'll be sorry. 'Cause you'll be dead." Gabriella said.

Sharpay lowered her head and sighed.

"Oh God, I am such an utter fool." She said.

"That penguin last night, is he one of them?" Gabriella asked.

"Penguin?" Sharpay asked. Gabriella nodded. "Oh, Troy!" she said. "Yes, he is them."

"Is he your boyfriend?" Gabriella asked.

"Worse, I'm afraid." Sharpay said, showing her the engagement ring. It was rather huge.

"Gawd look at this thing! You would have gone straight to the bottom." Gabriella said and they laughed together. A passing steward scowled at Gabriella, who was clearly not a first class passenger, but Sharpay just glared at him away.

"So you feel like you're stuck on a train you can't get off 'cause you're marryin' this fella?" Gabriella asked.

"Yes, exactly!" Sharpay said.

"So, don't marry him." Gabriella said, shrugging.

"If only it were that simple." Sharpay said with a sad sigh.

"It _is _that simple." Gabriella said.

"Oh, Gabriella… please don't judge me until you've seen my world." Sharpay said.

"Well, I guess I will tonight." Gabriella said.

Sharpay was looking to another topic. Anything. She spotted Gabriella's sketchpad and pointed at it.

"What's this?" she asked.

"Just some sketches." Gabriella shrugged.

"May I?" Sharpay had grabbed the pad already, so Gabriella couldn't answer. It wasn't like she minded, anyway.

Sharpay opened the sketchpad and looked between the sketches. There was one of a man sleeping, a father and a daughter on the rail, an old woman's hands, everything.

"Gabriella, these are quite good! Really, they are." Sharpay said.

"Well they didn't think much of 'em in _Paree_." Gabriella said.

Some sketches fell out, taken by the wind. Gabriella scrambled and was able to catch two, but the rest went over the rail.

"Oh no! Oh, I'm so sorry. Truly!" Sharpay said, although Gabriella was chuckling at the blonde's clumsiness. It didn't take long for Sharpay to chuckle too.

Gabriella shakes her hand to show she wasn't mad.

"I just seem to spew 'em out. Besides, they're not worth a damn anyway." She said, throwing the two she caught. Sharpay watched her with wide eyes, but laughed.

"You're deranged!" she said and went back to the book, turning a page. "Well well." She came upon a series of nude women. Sharpay was transfixed by the languid beauty Gabriella had created. Her nudes were soulful, real, with expressive hands and eyes. They felt more like portrayed than studied of the human form, almost uncomfortably intimate. Sharpay blushed, raising the book as some strollers went by.

"And these were drawn from life?" she asked, trying to sound adult.

"Yup." Gabriella nodded. "That's one of the great things about Paris. Lots of girls willing to take their clothes off."

Sharpay gave her a look, but continued to look at one drawing. The woman posed half at sunlight, half at shadow, and her hands lied at her chin.

"You liked this woman. You used her several times." Sharpay said.

"She had beautiful hands." Gabriella said. Sharpay smiled.

"I think you must have had a love affair with her." She said. Gabriella laughed.

"No, no. Just with her hands." She said.

Sharpay looked up from the drawings and at Gabriella.

"You have a gift, Gabriella. You do." She said. "You see people."

"I see you." Gabriella said.

There it was. The piercing gaze again.

"And…?" Sharpay asked.

"You wouldn't have jumped." Gabriella said.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three – Dinner 

Ruth was having tea with Noel Lucy Martha Dyer-Edwards, the Countess of Rothes. The two were engaged in a rather boring conversation, but it didn't matter what it was, it got Ruth pretty excited and the Countess was chuckling. Ruth stopped chuckling and spotted someone coming across the room and lowered her voice to the Countess.

"Oh no, that vulgar Brown woman is coming this way." She said. The Countess looked at the same direction and saw it was true. "Get up, quickly before she sits with us."

The two put their napkins on the table and stared standing up as Molly caught up with them with a smile.

"Hello girls, I was hoping I'd catch you at tea." She said.

"We're awfully sorry, you missed it." Ruth said. "The Countess and I are just off to take the air on the boat deck."

"That sounds great. Let's go." Molly said. "I need to catch up on my gossip."

Ruth gritted her teeth as the three of them headed for the Grand Staircase to go up.

Sitting not too far from them, were Bruce Ismay and Captain Smith, also having tea.

"So you've lit the last four boilers then?" Mr. Ismay asked.

"No, we're making excellent time." Captain Smith answered, proudly.

"Captain, the press knows the size of Titanic," Mr. Ismay answered, impatiently. "let them marvel at her speed too. We must give them something new to print. And the maiden voyage of Titanic must make headlines."

"I prefer not to push the engines until they've been properly run in." Captain Smith said with a sigh.

"Of course, I leave it to your good offices to decide what's best, but what a glorious end to your last crossing if we get into New York Tuesday night and surprise them all." Mr. Ismay said, and he got Capitain Smith wondering. "Retire with a bang, eh EJ?" Captain Smith slowly nodded, stiffy.

oO0Oo

Gabriella and Sharpay were strolling aft, past people lounging on the deck chairs in the slanting late-afternoon light. Stewards were scurrying to serve tea or hot cocoa.

"You know, my dream has always been to just chunk it all and become an artist… living in a garret, poor but free!" Sharpay spoke in a girly, yet excited voice. Gabriella laughed.

"You wouldn't last two days." She said. "There's no hot water, and hardly any caviar."

Sharpay turned to her, suddenly angry.

"Listen buster I hate caviar!" she said. "And I'm tired of people dismissing my dreams with a chuckle and pat on the head!" Gabriella stopped chuckling.

"I'm sorry. Really… I am." She said. Sharpay sighed.

"Well, alright." She said. "There's something in me, Gabriella. I feel it. I don't know what it is, whether I should be an artist, or, I don't know… a dancer. Like Isadora Duncan… a wild pagan artist…"

Sharpay leaped forward, landed deftly and whirled like a dervish. She saw something ahead of her and her face lit up.

"…or a moving picture actress!" she grabbed Gabriella's hand and led her toward a man and a woman behind a big wooden camera as Sharpay posed stiffly at the rail.

"You're sad." The man, called Daniel Marvin, said to her. "Sad, sad, sad. You've left your lover on the shore. You may never see him again. Try to be sadder darling."

Suddenly, Sharpay shot into the shot and stroke a theatrical pose at the rail, next to the woman, called Mary. Mary burst out laughing and Sharpay pulled Gabriella into the picture and made her pose as well.

Daniel grinned and started yelling and gesturing for them do strike different poses.

Sharpay posed tragically on the rail, with the back of her hand on her forehead.

Gabriella on a deck chair, pretending to be a Pasha, the other two girls were pantomiming her like two slave girls.

Gabriella, then, on her knees, pleading with her hands clasped while Sharpay was standing on her feet, turned her head in bored disdain.

Sharpay cranking at the camera, while Daniel and Gabriella had a western shoot-out. Gabriella won and leered into the lens, twirling an air mustache like Sidney Whiplash.

Gabriella and Sharpay leaned on the orange-painted A Deck rail aft, shoulder to shoulder. It was a magical moment, and the two still had smiles on their faces.

"So then what, Ms. Wandering Gabriella?" Sharpay asked.

"Well, then logging got to be too much like work, so I went down to Los Angeles to the pier of Santa Monica. That's a swell place, they even have a rollercoaster." Gabriella commented. "I sketched portraits there for 10 cents a piece."

"A whole 10 cents?!" Sharpay asked. Gabriella stared at her weirdly, not getting it.

"Yeah… it was great money." Gabriella said. "I could make a dollar a day, sometimes. But only in summer. When it got cold, I decided to go to Paris and see what real artists were doing." Sharpay sighed and looked at the dusky sky.

"Why can't I be like you, Gabriella?" she asked. "Just head out for the horizon whenever I feel like it." She turned to her. "Say we'll go there sometime, to that pier, even if we only ever just talk about it."

"Alright, we're going." Gabriella said. "We'll drink cheap beer and go on the rollercoaster until we throw up and we'll ride horses on the beach, right in the surf. But you have to ride like a real cowboy, none of that sidesaddle stuff."

"You mean one leg on each side?" Gabriella nodded. "Scandalous! Can you show me?"

"Sure. If you like." Gabriella said.

"I think I would." She said, smiling at the brunette. She then, turned to the horizon. "And teach me to spit too. Like a man. Why would only men be able to spit. It's unfair." Gabriella chuckled.

"I'm not a man and I know how to spit." She said. "They didn't teach you that in finishing school?" Sharpay shook her head. "Here, it's easy. Watch closely." Gabriella spat and it arced out over the water. "Your turn." She said to the blonde.

Sharpay screwed up her mouth and spat. A pathetic little bit of foamy spittle which mostly ran down her chin before falling into the water. Gabriella laughed.

"Nope, that was pitiful. Here, like this… you hawk it down…" she said as she did it and arced her neck. "then roll it on your tongue, up to the front, then a big breath and…" she spat again. "You see the range on that thing?"

Gabriella continued coaching Sharpay, while doing it herself. The two let it fly. Two comets of gob fly out over the water.

"That was great!" Gabriella said. Sharpay turned to her, her face alight. Suddenly, she blanched. Gabriella saw this and turned.

Ruth, the Countess of Rothes and Molly have been watching them hawking lugees. Sharpay became instantly composed.

"Mother, may I introduce Gabriella Montez." She said.

"Charmed, I'm sure." Ruth said as Gabriella offered her a small smile. Gabriella had a little spit running down her chin, but she didn't know it. Molly chuckled and pointed it subtly and she quickly wiped it, while Sharpay continued with the introduction.

_ The others were gracious and curious about the girl who'd saved my life. But my mother looked at her like an insect. A dangerous insect, which must be squashed quickly._

"Well, Gabriella, it sounds like you're a good girl to have around in a sticky spot." Molly said with a small smile. They all jumped as a bugler sounded the meal call, right behind them. "Why do they insist on always announcing dinner like a damn cavalry charge?" Molly asked while rolling her eyes, making Sharpay giggle.

"Shall we go dress, Mother?" Sharpay asked as she linked arms with Ruth and looked over her shoulder. "See you at dinner, Gabriella."

"Sharpay, look at you! Out in the sun with no hat. Honestly!" Ruth said as they walked. The Countess left with Ruth and Sharpay, leaving just Gabriella and Molly.

"Miss, do you have the slightest comprehension of what you're doing?" Molly asked Gabriella, who just shrugged.

"Not really." She said.

"Well, you're about to go into the snake pit, I hope you're ready." Molly said and eyed her. "What are you planning to wear?"

Gabriella looked down at her own clothes and then back up at Molly. She hadn't really thought about it. Molly rolled her eyes.

"I figured." She said and linked arms with Gabriella.

oO0Oo

Women's ball gowns and shoes were all over Molly's stateroom. Molly was having a fine time. Gabriella was dressed, but her makeup wasn't done and Molly was doing her hair.

"Don't feel bad about it. I couldn't do my hair alone when I was your age, either. There you go." Molly said and then turned around.

Molly helped Gabriella do her makeup and then she tried on her shoes. Molly started grabbing the stuff from the room.

"I saved it all from my daughter's engagement." She said. "I had to buy three sizes of everything, I didn't know how much she's been eating while I'm gone." Molly turned around and looked at her. She smiled. "My, my, my…" she said. "You shine up like a new penny."

oO0Oo

Gabriella was walking alone towards the First Class Entrance. She looked around in silent awe. She could hear classic music coming from inside.

A steward bowed and opened the door for her.

"Good evening, miss." He said.

Gabriella played the role smoothly, she nodded with just the right degree of disdain.

She was wearing a white and green gown that went down to her feet and a silver pair of shoes. Her hair was beautifully combed and washed and her makeup was natural, but she was wearing red lipstick.

Gabriella stepped in and her breath was taken away by the splendor spread out before her. Overhead was the enormous glass dome, with a crystal chandelier at its center. Sweeping down six stories in the First Class Grand Staircase, the epitome of the opulent naval architecture of the time.

And the people: the women were wearing floor length dresses, just like Gabriella, elaborate hairstyles and abundant jewelry, while Gabriella was wearing a borrowed necklace. The gentlemen in evening dresses, standing with one hand at the small of the back, talking quietly.

Gabriella descended to A Deck. Several men nodded a perfunctory greeting. Gabriella nodded back, keeping it simple. She felt just like a spy.

Troy came down the stairs, linking arms with Ruth covered in jewelry. They both walk right past Gabriella, neither recognizing her. Troy nodded at her, but Gabriella barely had time to be amused, because just behind Troy and Ruth on the staircase was Sharpay: a vision in red and black, her low-cut dress showing off her neck and shoulders, her arms seathed in white gloves that came well above her elbows, just like Gabriella's. The two were hypnotized by the other's beauty.

As Sharpay approached Gabriella, the brunette imitated a woman she saw and subtly bowed at the blonde, who giggled and bowed back at her, flushed. She couldn't take her eyes off of the brunette. Gabriella then looked back up at Sharpay.

"I saw that in a nickelodeon once, and I always wanted to do it." She said and the two girls giggled.

"Troy, surely you remember Ms. Montez." Sharpay said, making Troy turn around. He stared at Gabriella and was caught off guard.

"Montez!" he said. "I didn't recognize you!" he said then studied her. "Amazing! You could almost pass for a lady!"

oO0Oo

As the party descended to D Deck to the dining room, they encounter Molly, who looked good in a beaded dress. Molly grinned when she saw Gabriella. As they were going into the dining saloon, Molly walked up to Gabriella and spoke to her in a low voice:

"Ain't nothin' to it, is there Gabriella?" she said.

"Yeah, you just dress like a pallbearer and keep your nose up." Gabriella said.

"Remember, the only thing they respect is money, so just act like you've got a lot of it and you're in the club." Molly said.

As they entered the swirling throng, Sharpay leaned to him and pointed several notables.

"There's the Countess of Rothes." She said and looked at another man. "And that's John Jacob Astor, the richest man on the ship. His little wifey there, Madeline, is my age and in a delicate condition. See how she's trying to hide it? Quite the scandal." Gabriella nodded and Sharpay turned to another couple whom Troy was talking to. "And over there, that's Sir Cosmo and Lucile, Lady Duff-Gordon. She designs naughty lingerie, among her many talents. Very popular with the royals." Sharpay said.

Troy became engrossed in a conversation with Cosmo Duff-Gordon and Colonel Gracie, while Ruth, the Countess of Rothes and Lucile discussed fashion.

Sharpay picoted Gabriella smoothly, pointing another couple, dressed impeccably.

"And that's Benjamin Guggenheim and his mistress, Madame Aubert. Mrs. Guggenheim is at home with the children, of course." Sharpay said.

Troy, meanwhile, was accepting the praise of his male counterparts, who were looking at Sharpay like a prize show horse.

"Bolton, she's splendid." Sir Cosmo said.

"Thank you." Troy said.

"Troy's a lucky man." Colonel Gracie said. "I know him well, and it can only be luck."

Ruth stepped over, hearing the last part. She took Troy's arm, somewhat coquettishly.

"How can you say that, Colonel? Troy Bolton is a great catch." Ruth said.

The entourage strolled down toward the dining saloon, where they ran into the Astors going through the ornate doors.

"JJ, Madeline, I'd like to meet Gabriella Montez." Sharpay said.

"Good to meet you, Gabriella." John said. "Are you one of the Boston Montezes?"

"No, the Chippewa Falls Montezes, actually." Gabriella said. John Jacob nodded as if he'd heard of them, but then looked puzzled.

oO0Oo

Like a ballroom at the palace, alive and lit by a constellation of chandeliers, full of elegantly dressed people and beautiful music from a small orchestra.

Gabriella and Sharpay entered and moved across the room, with Ruth and Troy right behind them.

_She must have been nervous but she never faltered. They assumed he was one of them. A young heiress to an industry perhaps… new money, obviously, but still a member of the club. Mother, of course, could always be counted upon._

"Tell us of the accommodations in steerage, Ms. Montez. I hear they're quite good on this ship." Ruth said.

Gabriella was sitting opposite to Sharpay, who was flanked by Troy and Thomas Andrews. Molly, Burce Ismay, Colonel Gracie, the Countess, Guggenheim, Madame Aubert and the Astors were also sitting at the table.

"The best I've seen, ma'am. Hardly any rats." Gabriella said, making the whole table chuckle.

Sharpay motioned surreptitiously for Gabriella to take her napkin off her plate.

"Ms. Montez is joining us from Third Class. She was of some assistance to my fiancée last night." Troy said and turned to Gabriella. "This is foie gras. It's goose liver." He said as if he was talking to a child.

When he spoke that, whispered were exchanged at the table. Gabriella became the subject of fugitive glances. Now they were all feeling terribly liberal and dangerous.

"What is Bolton hoping to prove, bringing this… Bohemian… up here?" Guggenheim said to Madame Aubert in a low voice.

A waiter approached Gabriella and asked her.

"How do you take your caviar, miss?"

"Just a soupcon of lemon…" Troy said, answering for her, then he turned to Gabriella with a smile. "it improves the flavor of champagne." Gabriella turned to the waiter.

"No caviar for me, thanks." She said and turned to Troy. "Never did like it much." Gabriella then turned to Sharpay, pokerfaced, and the blonde smiled.

"And where exactly do you live, Ms. Montez?" Ruth asked.

"Well, right now my address is the RMS Titanic. After that, I'm on God's good humor." Gabriella said.

The salad was served and Gabriella reached for her fish fork. Sharpay gave her a look and picked up her salad fork, prompting her with her eyes. Gabriella changed forks.

"You find that sort of rootless existence appealing, do you?" Ruth asked.

"Well… it's a big world, and I want to see it all before I go." Gabriella said. "My father was always talkin' about goin' to see the ocean. He died in the town he was born in, and never did see it. You can't wait around, because you never know what you're going to dealt next. See, my folks died in a fire when I was 15, and I've been on the road since. Somethin' like that teaches you to take life as it comes at you. To make each day count."

Molly rose her glass in a salute.

"Well said, Gabriella." She said.

"Here, here." Colonel Gracie said, raising his glass. Sharpay also rose her glass, looking at Gabriella.

"To making it count." She said.

Ruth was annoyed that Gabriella scored a point, so she decided to press her further.

"How is it you have the means to travel, Ms. Montez?" she asked.

"I work my way from place to place." Gabriella said. "Tramp steamers and such. I won my ticket on Titanic here in a lucky hand of poker." She glanced over at Sharpay. "A very lucky hand."

"All life is a game of luck." Colonel Gracie said.

"A real man makes his own luck, Archie." Troy said. Sharpay noticed that Thomas Andrews, who was sitting next to her, was writing in his notebook, completely ignoring the conversation.

"Mr. Andrews, what are you doing?" she asked. "I see you everywhere writing in this little book." She grabbed it and read it. "Increase the numbers of screws in hat hook from 2 to 3. You built the biggest ship in the world and this preoccupies you?"

Thomas smiled at her sheepishly.

"He knows every rivet in her, don't you Thomas?" Bruce asked.

"All 3 million of them." Thomas said.

"His blood and soul are in the ship. She may be mine on paper, but in the eyes of God she belongs to Thomas Andrews." Bruce spoke.

"Your ship is a wonder, Mr. Andrews. Truly." Sharpay said.

"Thank you, Sharpay." Thomas said, coming under Sharpay's spell.

Dessert had been served and a waiter arrived with cigars and a humidor on a wheeled cart. The men start clipping ends and lighting.

"Next it'll be brandies in the Smoking Room." Sharpay said in a low voice to Gabriella.

Colonel Gracie rose from his chair.

"Well, join me for a brandy, gentlemen?" he asked.

"Now they retreat into a cloud of smoke and congratulate each other on being masters of the universe." Sharpay said again in a low voice to Gabriella.

"You're staying, right Montez?" Colonel Gracie asked. "You don't want to join us, do you?"

Gabriella looked up at him.

"No thanks. I'm heading back." Gabriella said.

"Probably best. We'll talk about business and politics, that sort of thing. The women probably will talk about fashion and men. Wouldn't interest you." Troy said to her. "Good of you to come."

The men all left the woman on the table.

"Gabriella, must you go?" Sharpay asked.

"Time for my coach to turn back into a pumpkin." Gabriella said. She leaned over and took her hand, slipping Sharpay a tiny folded note into her palm.

Ruth watched her walk away across the enormous room.

Sharpay surreptitiously opened the note below the table level.

"Make it count. Meet me at the clock." She read.

* * *

_Hey! Sorry for the long wait but these chapters are really long so it takes ages for me to post lol I hope you enjoyed this!_


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